Back Again
by Audi Vide Tace
Summary: All Amy Cahill wants to do is assimilate herself into her old school. But that's proving difficult. Old "friends", new cousins, a new, exciting, and dangerous game to play, and Amy just wants to leave. But every Cahill knows that family comes first.
1. Chapter 1

It took a very special sort of person to walk into a halfway-over homeroom class the first day of school. Exactly the sort of person Amy Cahill wasn't.

Amy hated being the new girl at a school where everyone knew each other. Even the late girl, walking into the class like she owned the place (which Grace had always said did _not _endear people to you), seemed to have friends. Well all the guys looked happy to see her. The girls just looked angry at the fact that she had even set foot in the classroom.

"Ah," the teacher adjusted her scarf, "you must be Marina Roscoe."

She nodded. "Sorry, we got into a little car crash."

The teacher—Mrs. Donohue," clasped a hand to her heart. "Are you all right?"

Marina smiled. "My brother isn't the most cautious driver," and she took her seat, right next to Amy.

Amy studied the girl through her peripheral vision. She was pretty. Long sunstreaked hair, big hazel eyes, tanned skin. Amy noticed she had a second piercing on her left ear, something expressly forbidden by the Holy Maria High School handbook. She wore a slash of eyeliner (again, forbidden), and her nails were polished turquoise.

That was all Amy needed to realize that she wanted to know this girl, Marina Roscoe, if it killed her.

And that would prove to be easy; Marina had just slid a scrap of paper over onto her desk.

_Hi_

It read, in tiny, crisp writing. _I'm Marina. What's your name? Are you new here?_

Amy pulled out a pen and wrote back, her scrawl a bit thicker, but still neat. **I'm Amy Cahill. I'm new. Are you?**

_New to the school, yeah. New to these people, hell no. I've been in with the exact same people since preschool. Where are you from?_

**I live in Boston.**

_Oh. That's too bad. I live in California, but my parents make me come back East to get my education. It's bloody evil._

**British?**

_I went to England this summer for a week. It sort of rubbed off. _

**I have kind of friends in England.**

_Either you love 'em or you hate 'em, honey. But whatever. We should get lunch together. Let's go to Newbury street._

**Sure!**

Marina crumpled up the paper, and left Amy wondering how a girl like her—the girl who was nonchalant about being in a car crash, the girl with the illegal earring, the California girl—would walk up to a girl like Amy, and adopt her as a friend.

Marina had insisted on going to Stephanie's on Newbury, which was all fine and well by Amy. Amy had ordered a turkey club sandwich; Marina had gone a bit more atypical and ordered ahi tuna tartare.

Marina had barely spoken a word on their10-minute trek to Newbury street, but after she ordered, she folded her hands demurely in her lap, tilted her head at an angle, and smiled.

"So, tell, me, Amy, do you have a boyfriend?"

Amy jolted up in her seat. She was surprised that Marina, who seemed so mature and peculiar, would ask such a meaningless teenage-girly question. "Um, no."

Marina stuck her lips out in a pout. "Bother," there was her accent again. "You're pretty, you should."

"Th-thanks?"

She shrugged. "Do you wear makeup?"

"No. I kinda think I should but I'm afraid what people would say."

"Honey," Marina shook her head in mock sympathy, then smiled, "don't even start. I'm afraid of what people would say if I didn't wear any. Favorite color?"

"Green. Yours?"

"Black. Like my soul," she deadpanned. "Kidding. Red. Do you have any siblings?"

"A younger brother, Dan."

"What do your parents do?"

"I have an au pair."

"Did your parents die?"

Amy nodded.

"I'm sorry. My parents are divorced," she offered.

Then their food came, and they sunk back into silence. Marina ate oddly, she noticed. She took tiny bites, chewed each bite exactly 10 times, swallowed, and sipped her iced tea. Not that she was watching her every move. There was something about Marina that looked familiar.

Then she realized that she was wearing the exact same scarf that Natalie Kabra had made such a fuss over at that party last month. It was a pale pink silk scarf—nothing special in Amy's eyes—and Prada. Or something.

"Do you like my scarf?"

Amy blushed. "S-sorry, I know a person who had the s-same one."

"Oh, yes, all my friends got matching ones. Perhaps you know Pippa or Josephine."

Amy shook her head.

Marina snapped her fingers at the waiter, "check, please?"

He brought over the bill, and Amy reached for it the same time as Marina did. "No, silly, let me get it," Marina smiled, and whipped out a platinum credit card. "My daddy felt guilty because he's too busy with Bunny or Barbie or whatever her name is. So he got me a credit card and told me to go crazy," she explained.

"Well, thanks," Amy smiled at her new friend.

Marina stood up, and shouldered her purse. "Don't think about it. It's what cousins do."

**Hi. So, this is my first story, so please flame the hell out of it. I'd like to improve. Gracias.**

**-Audrey**


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't attractive to stand around with your mouth gaping open. But Amy's jaw felt wired.

"I can see your tonsils," Marina remarked.

"Y-y-you, you…"

"Oh, you stutter," Marina frowned. "You can go to a coach for that. It's not very assertive."

Amy's throat was dry, but she managed to spit out one word. "Cousins?"

"Yeah, silly!" Marina smiled, but there was something mean—not mean, precisely. Her smile was rather malicious, and Amy realized that she resembled, not Natalie Kabra, but her mother. "Didn't you know that?"

Amy shook her head.

"Then why did you think I was talking to you?"

_Maybe because you were nice? _Amy wanted to shout. _Maybe you thought we could be friends?_

No, Marina Roscoe was just another Cahill. Those thoughts would never cross her mind, not ever.

"Do you need a paper bag to breathe into? Should I be worried?" Marina poked Amy in the arm. "Hello? Amy Cahill? _Estas aqui?_"

Amy swallowed with difficulty, and spoke. "Lucian?"

She was surprised at how collected—how detached, almost icy—she sounded.

"Ew, no way," Marina faked a shudder. "Janus. And you're a Madrigal, I presume?"

"Janus? Really? What's your talent?" Amy liked her new voice.

"Haha," Marina said, drily. "I asked you a question."

"I'm a Madrigal."

Amy found it funny that they were having such a clandestine discussion on such a crowded street. She found it funny that Marina seemed to be avoiding the question—could she be the only talentless Janus in the family? And she found it very, very funny that Marina evidently needed something from her and was just too proud to ask.

"So, what are you doing here?"

Marina scowled. "We need your help."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Natalie, and the darling Ian, of course."

"No," Amy turned to walk away down the street, and she nearly got away, too. One of the pros of being so average looking was that it was easy to melt into crowds. But Marina was quicker than she was, and stuck to her side like glue. Marina navigated the busy district expertly, she was significantly taller than Amy, nearly 6 feet tall in heels, but she seemed to walk on air.

Perhaps that was her talent. Walking nicely.

"Please?"

"No."

"There's money involved," Marina said in a singsong voice.

"What makes you think I need money?"

"Umm," Marina put her finger to her lips in mock thought. "You go to Holy Maria High, that's right."

"Goodbye, Marina," Amy rolled her eyes.

"Amy, come on. I'm sorry. It was a joke. Ok? We need your help—or at least Ian does."

Amy stared at her for a while. She looked almost sad, standing there, the pretty girl she was, alone on the street. She didn't look so tough anymore, her eyeliner and earring seemed contrived now.

Amy realized that Natalie and Ian were probably Marina's only friends. And with friends like those, who needed enemies?

"And what makes you think that just because the 'darling' Ian Kabra asks for me, I'm going to come running to help him."

"Listen, Amy. I know what he did to you. He's a jerk to most girls. Not to me, because I'm totally not his type and therefore he doesn't have to impress me."

"He has a type?" Amy was curious in spite of herself.

Marina rolled her eyes. "Doesn't every guy? And his type looks and acts like you."

And with those words, Amy sighed, prepared herself for a life of regret, and asked, "What does he want?"

"I think he'd better tell you."

Amy didn't go back to school that day. Marina had called the office and said, imitating a woman with a very posh accent, that she had fallen ill and was retiring to her Aunt Natalie's house.

"I don't think you should mention that to Nat," Marina had said when she hung up. "She wouldn't like being someone's auntie."

Marina banged on a hotel door—room 566—and yelled, "Natalie Kabra, open up. It's me."

"Who's me?" A reedy voice from inside the room called.

"Me!"

The door opened a crack, and one amber eye peered out. "oh, it's you two."

Natalie Kabra opened the door a bit more, and ushered the two inside. Amy felt awkward again. She didn't hate Natalie anymore. She just disliked her.

"Darling!" Natalie cried, throwing her arms around Marina. "You look amazing." She pinched the fabric of Marina's school shirt. "Did Giorgio make this for you?"

"No, Domenico and Stefano."

Natalie turned her attention to Amy. "Hello, Amelia. How've you been?" She hugged her as well, but it was a little less flamboyant and a little stiffer than the embrace she had bestowed on Marina.

"Fine. You?" Amy could be civil as well.

"It's been awful! Mummy—"

And Natalie was cut off as Ian Kabra stepped into the room.

"Hello," he kissed Marina on the cheek. "Have a nice holiday?"

"Not so great."

"Custody battles?"

Marina nodded.

"Amy," Ian said warmly, holding out his hand. She shook it with trepidation. "It's great to see you again."

"Yeah, you too."

"Sit," he pointed at the chaise, and then Amy realized how grand the suite really was.

Marina kicked off her heels, and settled into the armchair. Natalie slid the heels on. Exactly why she'd done that, Amy didn't know. It must have been some strange girl ritual.

"Verrry nice," Marina said. "Only five sizes too big. You must've grown taller."

"So," Ian placed a manila file on the coffee table in front of them. "You must be wondering why I requested this meeting."

"No," said Marina, at the exact time Amy said,

"Yes."

"I want an armistice. Just for a little while. Can you get Janus to agree, Marina? And Madrigal?"

"Armistice? Why?"

"My mother's gone completely mad."

"Oh my God, Ian. You're just realizing this now?"

Ian continued. "She says that we're missing something."

"Aah," Marina said. "The old 'you've forgotten something so go find it so I can KILL YOU' trick."

"I think it's real."

"So, Isabel says you've forgotten a Clue, so you want a truce and you need our help."

"Exactly," Ian nodded.

"I'm in. I still can't believe that Grace explicitly stated that the Roscoe family be excluded from the hunt."

"Really?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah," Marina checked manicure. "life's so boring without cousinly warfare."

Then the three turned and stared at Amy.

And for the second time that day, Amy prepared herself for a lifetime of regrets. "Fine."

**A/N. Aw, Ian. Gotta love him.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed. **


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